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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27076282">Harry and his P.E.I.Ps</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pundit_Ex_baller/pseuds/Pundit_Ex_baller'>Pundit_Ex_baller</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Black Friday - Team StarKid, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals - Team StarKid</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Extradimensional monsters what no man may what of, Wear a watch</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-09 01:21:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,250</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27076282</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pundit_Ex_baller/pseuds/Pundit_Ex_baller</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When Harry Potter is killed by Voldemort, he wakes up in a place that isn't quite King's Cross station, and needs the help of a lingering spirit to escape.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>General John Macnamera &amp; Harry Potter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Dumblething</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hey all, this is my first fic in a while, and my first on Ao3. I'll probably do a third chapter eventually, but this was just something I wanted to make while waiting for episode two of Nightmare Time. I don't own anything you recognize, and I probably don't own anything you don't recognize, either. The economy, right? A boy can't even go out and buy a multi-billion dollar franchise anymore. <br/>P.s sorry for the poor formatting, I'm still getting used to the Ao3 editor</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Harry was dead, definitely. He’d gone to die in the forbidden forest. He’d met Voldemort, and then a flash of green. And then nothing. Which is why he was so confused. It seemed pretty likely that he’d bungled the follow through, because nothing usually didn’t look like King’s Cross station, and it certainly didn’t usually look like Professor Dumbledore sitting on a bench, waiting for him. The late professor twinkled at Harry, as he was so wont to do in life, and Harry began making his way across the space towards Dumbledore, the heels of his trainers clacking on the tile. There was no noise except for the sound of his breathing.<br/>
Dumbledore smiled at Harry as he reached the older wizard and took a seat.<br/>
“You’re dead.”<br/>
</p>
<p>Dumbledore seemed to consider this. “Perhaps, Harry, but I rather think that your being dead is the more pressing point.”<br/>
</p>
<p>Harry looked down. “I’m sorry professor, I did what I could. Someone else will have to finish the job.”<br/>
“No, no,” Dumbledore put his arm around Harry’s shoulder, and made an expansive gesture with a mangled, curse-blackened arm, “you misunderstand, you were only ever meant to destroy the Horcruxes. This is exactly how it was supposed to end. Well done, that boy!”<br/>
</p>
<p>Harry’s head jerked up, “I was supposed to die?”<br/>
</p>
<p>Dumbledore frowned, “well you couldn’t very well live with a bit of his soul in you, could you, you stupid boy? It doesn’t matter at any rate, because you’re here now. Where you were meant to be.”<br/>
</p>
<p>Harry’s mind was tumbling, this was all so horribly wrong. The man who had helped him his whole life, who he’d looked up to, who he’d seen as almost his own grandfather, was telling him he was meant to die, to be here? He looked at Dumbledore, smiling again, and looked around King's Cross, unease in his mind threatening to shift to terror, black flickering at the edge of his vision.<br/>
</p>
<p>Harry turned back to Dumbledore, “So we’re dead then, Professor?” he could hear the panic in his voice. It was funny, he’d been so ready to die for everyone before coming here, but something about this place made him want to be anywhere else. He felt like a coward, but he so desperately wanted to be alive again. “At least we’ve got each other, eh?”<br/>
“Oh, on the contrary, my boy, you aren’t dead yet.”<br/>
</p>
<p>Harry’s head shot up, his spirits soaring.<br/>
“Just like I’m not alive yet. Dumbledore smiled. Was it just Harry or did Dumbledore’s teeth look sharper? “The operating word of course,” the elderly wizard almost purred, his eyes glowing, “being yet.”<br/>
</p>
<p>The twisting, contorting form of what had been Dumbledore pounced on Harry, who scrambled backwards just out of it’s horrific, malformed reach. It’s inertia carried it past Harry, where it tumbled into a horrible pile of limbs and robes on the ground. Harry scrambled to his feet and began frantically patting his pockets for his wand, or the invisibility cloak, anything to get him away from the Dumble-thing. 
</p>
<p>It seemed to be having more trouble getting up than Harry had; it kept stumbling over all of it’s extra appendages. The effect would have been quite comical on something that wasn’t trying to kill him and wasn't made of the twisted flesh of what just recently been the closest thing he had to a parental figure.<br/>
</p>
<p>Failing to find anything Harry began backing away from the thing as it tried to right itself. Whatever the Dumble-thing was, it was orienting itself quickly, although from the snapping sound of cracking bones, it seemed that the human form wasn’t a limit it was adhering to strictly. The Back of Harry’s foot backed into a wall that he was sure wasn’t there before, and the Dumble-thing whirled towards him, it’s jaw unhinged and it let out an ungodly scream, and lunged, Harry closed his eyes, and and waited for the feeling of teeth sinking into him.<br/>
“You cannot harm him, monster, for I cut through you with a blade of truth!” A deep voice boomed in an American accent. The thing screamed again, a scream of fear and agony<br/>
</p>
<p>Harry risked opening his eye a crack, and didn’t see anything. More accurately he saw nothing: the form of King's Cross station was gone, as was the Dumble-thing, and an empty blackness stretched ahead of him for eternity. Absolute nothing, except for the man. He was standing there, lightly panting, his hand outstretched as though he'd just delivered a karate-chop to thin air. He was dressed in a military uniform from the States, a floppy beret draped over his flowing hair, a trimmed beard adorned his face, a watch was fastened to his wrist, and a handgun holstered safely on his chest. For whatever reason, Harry got the impression that this might be what Aragog would look like as a man. The man noticed Harry, as though for the first time, and stood to attention, firing off a salute. He spoke in the same deep tone he’d addressed the Dumble-thing in:<br/>
“Hello, son. My name is General John Macnamera of the United States Military, special unit P.E.I.P.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Into The Black And White</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Harry looked at the man, dumbfounded, and did the only thing he could think of “Harry Potter,” he introduced himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pleasure to meet you,” came the quick reply, before Macnamera continued unabated “We call it peep.” He looked at Harry’s terrified face, and as if to put him at ease added “That was a joke, son.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry relaxed, but only a little. “I can’t say I’ve ever heard of you, sir.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re a quite secure organization, young man. To find us you’d have to put in a lot of work. Do some Peep-ing.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It feels like you were reaching a bit with that pun, sir.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mcnamara turned away, so Harry could only see him in profile, reached into his vest and withdrew a packet of cigarettes, lighting one, and raising it to his mouth between his pointer and ring finger. He took a short drag and then spoke out of the side of his mouth,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not my best, I must admit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The general whirled back towards Harry, “But that’s entirely besides the point, young man.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What exactly is the point?” asked Harry, his fear and confusion was slowly morphing into annoyance at this frankly quite dramatic man, “and why are you in my head?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your head, son? Is that what you think this is? Some figment that you’ve dreamed up in your dying moments?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well when he heard it like that, it sounded a bit silly, “yes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Son, what do you know of the Multiverse?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uhh...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Macnamara sighed, “Son, Harry, can I call you Harry?” Harry Nodded. “Harry, there are forces in this world that mean you real harm, and I’m not talking about that Dark Lord of yours.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How do you know about that?” Harry asked, backing up a bit. He certainly hadn’t mentioned anything about Voldemort.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Relax, Harry, P.E.I.P has the task of cleaning up messes of a paranormal origin. Your Voldemort technically falls into that category. We were keeping tabs on him. I’ve read your file, but I wasn’t expecting to find you here, or ever to meet you personally. We were just beginning operations as they relate to your problem when I departed my home dimension. I can say that I’m particularly interested to know what you’re doing here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Actually,” Harry asked, “Where is here, exactly?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry paused, “Your world?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Harry, the universe is made up of various different dimensions, all separated by a greater dimension we call The Black And White. Some dimensions are more similar to each other than others. Think of it like a bowl of cereal,” here Macnamera paused, “do you like cereal, son?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes sir.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Macnamera smiled, and saluted, “Good man! Now, back to the point, a bowl of cereal, each of the little Os is a separate world of normal space, containing within it an infinite cosmos, and, often, the planet Earth. The milk they float in is quite a bit like The Black And White; and empty void that separates the dimensions and is far deeper than it looks. It’s also rich in calcium.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The general continued “and sometimes the surface tension pulls the cereal closer together, and you get dimensions that are very similar indeed.” Here he paused to take another drag on his cigarette, “For example one dimension might be exactly like your own, except,” he flourished his cigarette to illustrate the point, “the world might end after an alien intelligence invades and turns everyone into musical zombies.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okaaayyy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Or like in my world, the apocalypse may be heralded by the arrival of an incomprehensible terror from within The Black And White invading the world by way of adorable stuffed dolls,” Macnamera growled under his breath, “with fuzzy-wuzzy belly-wells.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Here the general paused, staring off into space for a moment, as though remembering something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sir, are you alright?” Harry asked, tentatively. “Is this some kind of flashback?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The general rounded on him, “I don’t have flashbacks, boy. I just remember bad things vividly!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That sounded like a flashback to Harry, but he kept his mouth shut.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So that’s where we are, in The Black And White, any questions?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry had several questions, but two were foremost: “How did you end up here, and how do we get out, sir?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I entered The Black And White while attempting to save the President of the United States, Howard Goodman, from a monster called Wiggly, but without protective gear, my essence, my very spirit, began to dissolve into The Black And White. My body is no more, I can never return to the physical realm. The only way I’ve avoided becoming totally lost to The Black And White is through my belief in the unwavering power of hope, and the unending power of love, truth, and the human spirit. I’ll tell you all about it, I’ve got pamphlets, somewhere,” the general began patting himself down, and checking the pockets of his vest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait,” Harry was panicking at this point, “I’m stuck here?! I can’t be stuck here, I need to get back!” He was hyperventilating.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The general halted his search for spiritual literature, and stepped towards Harry, and placed a hand on his shoulder, and slowly pulled them both down to a sitting position, “Harry, listen to me, you need to calm down, the less you focus, the more you become lost to The Black And White.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry was tearing up now, “I just really need to get home, sir. I was ready to die for them, but if this is what death is like, I really don’t want to die. I’m supposed to be this brave guy, and I just, I can’t.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The general gave his shoulder a squeeze, “you seem like a good kid, Harry. Brave, too if you’re anything like the boy who’s file I read. There’s nothing wrong with being frightened. We’ll get you out of here, but first you need to listen to me, can you do that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry nodded, shakily</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The general smiled, “good, </span>
  <span>now listen: sometimes you gotta fill your jets, sometimes you gotta slow your breath, sometimes you gotta step out of The Black And White and face the thing you dread. You’d better align your soul with what is good and right, you join the only fight that’s left, and scour The Black And White.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry nodded a little more certainly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look me in the eye now, son, and make a solemn vow, to become your best self now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry gulped, “yes sir.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The time has arrived now, Harry, when your day is black, it’s time to lead the pack.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry stood up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can show you the path, but only you can walk it, Harry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will, sir.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So,” said Harry, “How do I get out of here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Macnamera Smiled, “well Harry, it’s usually impossible to escape the pull of The Black And White without protective gear, but an associate of mine, Xander Lee, theorized that any being capable of surviving in The Black And White under their own power might potentially be able to act as a shield for another traveller. Clearly, I am such a being, at least my spirit is. I’ll attempt to shield you as you return to your dimension.” At this point John brought his face directly uncomfortably close to Harry’s, his eyes looked desperate “but listen, Harry, there’s a very good chance my spirit won’t survive the journey back, I might burn up, like a comet entering the atmosphere. Even if I do survive, my spirit will have no vessel in your dimension, and I’ll begin to dissipate. Either way I die. So I need you to do something for me Harry; I need you to give that wizard bastard hell for me, and then I need you to get yourself a team, find some P.E.I.Ps of your own Harry, and protect the world from fuckers like Wiggly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course, sir.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Call me John.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, John”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John straightened up, and took a step backwards, “one last question, Harry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How do you feel about musicals, son?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t fucking stand them, John.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Macnamera saluted, and Harry could see tears in his eyes, “Now that’s a goddamned red-blooded American.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry thought about correcting him, but decided against it, “Yeah, okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well then let’s get down to business, Harry.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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